The Last Sword
by Dylan The Crow
Summary: Let it be known that Kami is merciful. He even gave a second chance to you...Ulquiorra
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the two subjects that make up this crossover

Absolute change up: sorry...

**xxxxxx**

There is a door at the end of a silent corridor.  
>And it's haunting Harry Potter's dreams. Why else<br>would he be waking in the middle of the night,  
>screaming in terror?<p>

Here are just a few things on Harry's mind:

A Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher with a personality like poisoned honey

A venomus, disgruntled house elf

Ron as keeper of the Gryffindor Quidditch team

A transfer student (guard?) with no emotions and iron skin

The looming terror of the end-of-term Ordinary Wizarding Level exams

... And of course, the growing threat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Harry is faced with the  
>unreliability of the very government of the magical world and the impotence of the authorities at Hogwarts<br>Despite this (or perhaps because of it), he finds depth and strength in his friends, both new and old, beyond what even he knew; boundless loyalty; and unbearable sacrifice.

Though thick runs the drama and fast runs the action, Harry finds himself able to stand (barely) at the end of the day.  
>No matter what, he thinks, him and his friends will always be there.<p>

* * *

><p><em>'It hurts...<em>  
><em>the emptiness hurts'<br>_**  
>- <strong>The Cuatro's thoughts several hours before his death

The tall, pale figure looks at the hole in his chest, close to his neck. He looks up at the small mirror in his otherwise spartan room. Pale fingers trace teal lines from his eyes to his jawbone. Black and white lips return to their almost constant frown. He stares at the mirror, and green eyes stare back at him, their cat-shaped pupils almost accusing him.

_'Of what?'_ he wonders. _'What do my eyes see that I cannot?' _He thinks back to the woman he had brought to Las Noches on his masters orders. She reminds him of memories long buried, of times when he was...human. He chatises himself. He is no longer human, as all of his race once was. He is an elite being, more powerful than all who had come before him.

* * *

><p>He knows, now. As his wings slowly disintegrate, he reaches out with his hand. "...Do I frighten you? Girl?" She looks up at him with her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "No," she says "You don't." He looks at her. "I see." His hand reaches out to touch hers, but before he can, he fades away.<p>

_'What is it? Will I see it in there, if I shatter your skull? If I tear open your chest, will I see it inside? You damn humans speak of it so easily, almost as if_──

_'I see. This... Yes. This thing in my hand... is the heart?_

* * *

><p>Harry turned his head. Dumbledore had suddenly stopped his speech, and was looking at Umbridge inquiringly. As she wasn't really any taller sitting then standing, there was a moment when nobody understood why Dumbledore stopped talking, but then Professor Umbridge said, <em>"Hem, hem," <em>and it became clear that she had got to her feet and was intending to make a speech.

Dumbledore only looked taken aback for a moment, then he sat down smartly and looked alertly at Professor Umbridge as though he desired nothing better than to listen to her talk. Other members of the staff could not conceal their surprise as well as Dumbledore, however. Professor Sprout's eyebrows had disappeared into her wild hair, and Professor McGonagall's mouth was as thin as Harry had ever seen it.

No new teacher had _ever _interupted Dumbledore before. Many of the students were smirking; this women obviously did not know how things were done at Hogwarts. Harry heard a small creak as the doors creaked open and closed. He turned his head, to see a strange person standing in the archway of the door. He couldn't see the persons features, as they were wearing a long cloak with a hood. He could see a strange protrusion inside the hood; it almost looked like a horn off the side of his head. Harry stared a little more, than turned around to catch the rest of Professor Umbridge's speech.

Her voice was breathy, high-pitched, and sounded like a little girl. Harry felt an intense rush of dislike that he could not explain; all he knew was that he hated everything about her, from her stupid voice to her fluffy pink cardigan. She gave another little throat clearing cough (_"Hem, hem"_), and continued: "Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" She smiled, revealing very pointed teeth. "And to see such happy little faces looking back at me!"

Harry glanced around. None of the faces he could see looked happy; on the contrary they all looked rather taken aback at being addressed as though they were five years old. "I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!" The figure in the archway gave a snort of disdain. Harry glanced back at the figure, and he was not the only one. Several other students had heard the noise and glanced back, then turned away to their friends and gestured back to the archway. _"Hem, hem," _Professor Umbridge tried. The students didn't hear her over the general chattering and glances towards the figure in the door. Umbridge tried again _"Hem, Hem," _Nobody heard her.

Dumbledore rose to his feet, and the hall was instantly silenced. He smiled benevolently, and sat back down, gesturing for Umbridge to continue as he did so. Umbridge smiled at him, and turned to face the hall. She cleared her throat again with her odd little cough, but when she continued some of the breathiness had vanished from her voice. She now sounded much more businesslike, and her words had a dull, learned-by-heart sound to them.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts from which you were born may come to nothing if not carefully nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the Wizarding community must be passed down through the generations lest we loose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished, and polished (another snort came from the archway) by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching."

Professor Umbridge paused here and made a little bow to her fellow staff members, none of whom bowed back. Professor McGonagall's dark eyebrows had contracted so that she looked positively hawklike, and Harry distinctly saw her exchange a significant glance with Professor Sprout as Umbridge gave another little _"Hem, hem"_ and went on with her speech.

"Every Headmaster and Headmistriss of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation..."

* * *

><p>He was tired, and the atmosphere of the Great Hall was not helping. He had traveled far to get here, the site of his... mission. The word left a bad taste in his mouth, for he had taken it against his own choice. But who could refuse Kami, the giver of his task? The offer at the end had had given him hope, though. He snorted suddenly, as the voice of the irritating trash... woman... filtered through his ears. Her voice alone displeased him, but that was not all.<p>

His pesquisa had picked up a dark energy that emanated from the woman, Umbridge. Compared to his, of course, it was minute, but it would be enough to give an unseated Shinigami some slight chills. That is to say, he was quite unimpressed. While he was listening, his eyes were constantly scanning the great room, searching for his charge. Kami had told him that his pesquisa would detect two signatures, in one body. He had also given him a personal description, that of a boy with messy black hair, green eyes, glasses, and a lightning bolt-shaped scar.

He noticed that he had attracted more attention now. Before it had only been the boy with messy black hair, green eyes... glasses... and a lightning bolt-shaped scar. He had found him! He displayed none of the emotion that he felt presently, with his face an emotionless mask. He remembered the offer suddenly. A world like the dome of Las noches, where he could reside for eternity, and where he would be able to visit Earth via garganta if he so wished. It was... very tempting.

He snorted again, quietly. The woman had made a remark about polishing traditions and teachings. Could the students not see this? Then again, he supposed, they did not have some five hundred years to pick up the (not exactly subtle in this case) nuances of speech. Thinking back to how old he was brought back the memories of the... no. He would not think of that. He had tried his hardest to seal those memories away, where they could no longer touch him. His sister... He stopped that train of thought right there. He would not, could not, think of that here. Later perhaps, when he had all of eternity to search for her...

He touched his chest where his hollow hole was. His time in the human world had weakened him, made him susceptible to human emotions. He was lost in thought for a moment, then he noticed that the headmaster had gotten to his feet. My turn, he thought.

* * *

><p>"Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating," he said, bowing to her. "Now— as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held..." "Yes, it certaintly was illuminating." said Hermione in a low voice. "You're not telling me you enjoyed it?" Ron said quietly, turning a glazed face upon Hermione. "That was about the dullest speech I've ever heard, and I gre up with Percy."<p>

"I said illuminating, not enjoyable," said Hermione. "It explained a lot." "Did it?" said Harry in surprise. "Sounded like a load of waffle to me."  
>"There was some important stuff hidden in the waffle," said Hermione grimly. "Was there?" said Ron blankly.<p>

"How about 'progress for progress's sake must be discouraged'? How about 'pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited'?"  
>"Well, what does that mean?" said Ron impatiently.<br>"I'll tell you what it means," said Hermione through gritted teeth. "It means the Ministry's interfering at Hogwarts."  
>Ron opened his mouth to say something, but Harry shushed him; he had just noticed Dumbledore pausing and the hall growing even quieter.<p>

"Thank you," said Dumbledore, smiling. "And now I have one last announcement to make. I am pleased to inform you that for the first time in many years, Hogwarts is hosting a transfer student, for his fifth year, incidentally." At this, the hall broke out into whispers. Ron looked at Harry _"Tranfer student?" _he mouthed. Harry shrugged in response.

Dumbledore raised a hand, and the room fell quiet. "Thank you. I ask that you refrain from making any negative comments about his style of dress or his customs, (Harry saw Malfoy smirk at this) because he is still somewhat new to our culture. He is still learning from us, and there are many things you can learn from him. We will now proceed to sort him, and I would like you to greet your new transfer student." he sat back down, and summoned the hat and stool.

Professor McGonagall stood, pulled out a scroll, and announced "Cifer, Ulquiorra!" Ron looked at Harry. "What kind of bloke has a name like Ul-ki-arra? "_Ron_!" hissed Hermione "It's Ul-qui-orra!" Whatever Ron was about to say he never got the chance, as the figure by the archway strode foward and removed his hood. Several gasps were heard throughout the hall. Harry stared; he couldn't help himself.

The figure was now revealed to be a boy in his teens, with long black hair. He had piercing green eyes with small, oddly cat shaped pupils. There were also two odd, teal colored lines that traced their way down to his jawbone. He was also wearing some kind of strange bone-colored half-helmet on the left side of his head. Harry supposed that had been the horn-like shape he had seen throough the hood. As odd as that was, that was not what had made several people gasp. The boy had a _sword_ going through the sash around his waist. From what Harry could see of it, it had a green sheath and an oddly shaped guard.

Harry glanced up at the table. The teachers looked calm, like this was totally normal, but Umbridge looked rather constipated. Dumbledore looked like he was about to say something further, but she stood up, interupting him. Even Harry raised an eyebrow. Nobody had ever interupted Dumbledore before, but to interupt him _twice_? "Excuse me, young man, but I was under the impression that weapons were not allowed at Hogwarts." She began in her girlish voice. Dumbledore spoke "It's quite alright," he said, his eyes twinkling.

"Ulquiorra is a...special case." he gestured to the boy. "Ulquiorra, if you would." It was more of a statement than a question. The boy nodded, and drew his sword. Harry's eyes widened. The sword looked about three feet long, and even from here he could tell it was incredibly sharp. The boy held his sword up in front of him. "What's he going to do?" muttered Ron. "I don't know," hissed Hermione "But be quiet! I want to see what it is." "What's her problem?" said Ron in an aside to Harry. Harry could only shrug. He looked back at the boy, who was now holding his sword up in front of him. Suddenly, he flicked the sword, and a jet of light streaked out of it and hit Malfoy's goblet, turning it into a rat.

"That," said Ron, wide-eyed "Was _wicked_!" Harry could only nod in agreement. Up at the staff table, Umbridge looked like she was going to have an fit. Harry saw Professor McGonagall smirk, and mutter something to Professor Sprout. Whatever it was, it made Professor Sprout smile. The boy spoke, and all eyes in the hall were upon him. "Now," he said "If we could please commence with the sorting." Harry shuddered. The boy's voice was cold and lacking any emotion whatsoever. Professor McGonagall looked a little flustered at having a student tell her what to do, then nodded and picked up the hat.

She gestured for the boy to sit on the stool, and she then lowered the hat. The school waited with baited breath. One minute stretched into two, then three, then four. Harry felt himself get a little anxiuos, beside him, Ron looked rather impatient. Finally the Hat spoke to the whole school, announcing

**xxxxxx**

Cliffhangar! I know, I know. I'm despicable, evil, horrendous! You don't have to flatter me so much.

Thank you to the four people who have reviewed this so far, and thank you for your advice and kind words!

**Isis, Mistifyinglake, Riotstarter1214, **and** ScarletSands110**

Thank you!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or Harry Potter

(Sorry it's taken so long, everyone)

Chapter two, here we go...

**xxxxxx**

**xx **Several minutes previous **xx**

_"My, you are a strange one, aren't you?"_

_No emotions would have been present to those who could see him, but Ulquiorra was surprised. "_Who's there_," he demanded "_Show yourself!_"_  
><em>"Quiet down," the voice commanded "I am the sorting hat." "<em>The hat upon my head_?" he asked, surprised. "Yes," replied the voice "I am the sorting hat of Hogwarts, and it is my duty to pick the House you will be sorted into. However, there is a problem."_

_"I cannot read your mind. It is blocked from me, somehow..." Ulquiorrar smirked, and that meant an incredibly slight upturn of the lips and a very small knowing look. "It seems," he thought to himself "That the mind guarding training I have undertaken has paid off." He then spoke aloud "_Can I choose my house then, since you cannot get a fix on my mind?_" The way he phrased it sounded like terrible things would happen if his question was not answered positively._

_The hat hought for a moment "I suppose..." it began. "_Good_," interupted Ulquiorra "_You would find it satisfactory to your health if you announced Gryffindor._" The hat grew quiet. "Is that a threat?" it asked. "_Absolutely._" replied Ulquiorra. The hat paused for a long moment, then it spoke_

* * *

><p>"Gryffindor." There was no cheering or clapping. The hall was unaturally silent until Dumbledore began clapping, a smile on his face. The rest of Gyrffindor hastily joined in. Hermione turned to Harry and Ron.<p>

"Why did the hat not shout? It always shouts." she asked. Ron shrugged, still clapping "I don't know. Mabye it got tired?" Hermione looked at him. "It's a magical hat Ron. How does it get tired?" Ron shrugged. "It is odd though," began Harry.

Hermione and Ron both looked at him. "What is?" asked Ron. "The sorting hat took a long time to sort him. Almost like it couldn't make up it's mind or something."

Hermione nodded. "That, and I've never heard of someone who could cast a spell from a sword. In one of the books I read, one Spanish wizard, Dondochakka Birstanne, _tried _putting his wand inside the hilt of his sword."

"What happened to him?" asked Harry.  
>Hermione frowned "Well, metal can't really hold the power of a spell together, so he ended up melting his sword and killing himself in the explosion."<p>

"Well," began Ron, but what he was about to say would never be known, because Ulquiorra had just sat himself across from them. All conversation came to a halt.

Ulquiorra sat down, in an upright position. He simply sat there, waiting to be dismissed. Hermione decided to take the initiative after a long pause.

"So," she began hesitantly, "...Ulquiorra, was it?"  
>"Yes?" the boy replied, in his apathic tone.<br>"Er... Where are you from?" she asked

Ulquiorra looked at her. The silence stretched on until Ron interupted. "Hey!," he said in a small shout "She asked you a question! You could answer it at least."

Ulquiorra looked at him, then turned his head back to Hermione.  
>"Spain." he said, and all of a sudden his voice was tinged with a slight Hispanic accent.<p>

"Wow! You must know so many things! Do you know about Fernandez's Theory of Wandless magic, or Nnoitra's Laws of Magical Intoxication or..."

Hermione continued on and on as Ulquiorra tuned her out. He leaned over to Harry. "Is she always like this?"  
>Harry looked rather startled at being adressed. "Yes, she usually is. But we're friends with her, so we've gotten used to it."<p>

Ulquiorra stared for a moment, and Harry could have sworn he saw his lips turn up slightly. "Very well." Ulquiorra turned to Hermione. "No," he replied "I know nothing of what you speak. I am afraid I am rather new to this business of Wizardry, and as such have not heard of these Theories or Laws before."

Hermione visibly deflated, deprived of a chance to stuff her head with more knowledge. She perked back up a few seconds later and began to question Ulquiorra about Spain's culture.

Harry let out a quiet chuckle. He sat back and looked up at the staff table. Something was drawing his attention, something just at the edge of his mind. His gaze was drawn to Professor Umbridge, who was sitting very properly with that horrible little smile on her face.

He saw she was wearing some kind of necklace on a golden chain. Harry could feel something coming from that necklace, drawing him to it. Umbridge shifted in her seat, letting the golden locket with an engraved S on it dangle out. Harry heard a scream, and he knew no more.

**xx**Several moments prior**xx**

Ulquiorra's attention was almost starting to wander, traind Espada though he was. The girl, Hermione, was questioning him repeatedly about Spain, which he had been to only some 600 years prior to his death.

He couldn't be blamed if he didn't remember too much. Something caught his eye, and he very gently flicked his eyes over to where Harry was sitting.

Harry seemed almost in a trance, staring up at the Umbridge woman. Hopefully there was no sexual tension between them. That would make his job harder than it was already going to be.

Ulquiorra immediately focused again when Harry gave a little yell, and dropped out of his seat, in a dead faint. The hall was silent for a moment, then Professor Mcgonagall was there, restoring order before the chaos had even occured.

The hall broke out into hushed murmurings as Harry was taken to Madame Pomfrey's. Ulquiorra, with his better-than-human hearing, could make out quite a few things, such as "He's _got _to be faking" "Doesn't that get a little old? "Seriously, does he expect anyone to believe that?"

Ulquiorra let out a quiet sigh. With this level of hostility, his job was made even more difficult. As House lines were formed and sleepy children waddling up to bed, Ulquiorra quietly slipped away.

* * *

><p>He made his way up the stairs, down the hallways, past the gargoyles (who had, by now, learned not to ask him for a password). Ulquiorra waited patiently as the stairs winded up the the tower. He stepped out into the room, and stopped, waiting before the man behind the desk. The man behind the desk looked at Ulquiorra with a kind look on his face.<p>

"Will you give me your report, Ulquiorra?"

Ulquiorra kneeled, with his arm clenched to his chest in salute.

"Hai... Aizen-sama."

**XXXXXXXXX**

Thank you, to everyone who's reviewed so far. I'm sorry for the wait, but now I'll be able to update much more regularly. Thank you all very much, for taking your time to review this, and I hope you keep reading!

By the way, the next chapter will be up in a couple weeks, I promise.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or Harry Potter. I own this story and my ideas for it. (Oh yes, by the way, this chapter, while funny, also deserves an M rating. You have been warned. I would also like to add that I am not against gay people, and that several gay people are my closest friends. )

I've noticed that a lot of reviews were asking me what was going on with Aizen in Hogwarts, which I expected (Thank you, **mistifyinglake**, for catching my spelling error) so, I changed what I was going to do for this chapter. I decided to explain what, exactly, happened to Ulquiorra after he died.

**xxxxxx**

He woke.

He found himself in a forest, with snow on the ground. Tall, thin trees seemed to scrape the sky for miles around him. He was by a pool, its clear, pristine water concealing the true depths that lay beneath it.

Ulquiorra could not process it. He was alive? Heaven?

He immediatly dismissed that notion. He knew there was somewhere that dead Shinagami's went, at least, but he was as different from them as the moon from the sun. He knew that this wasn't Heaven, and it couldn't be Soul Society or Hueco Mundo, leaving two possible choices. This was either Hell, or he was on Earth. He knew which was more likely.

He reached for his side (apparently he was in his unrealeased form, fully clothed) and found his sword. He pulled it an inch from its sheath. If this was a part of Hell he had no knowledge of, he might as well be prepared. He looked around him again.

This place didn't seem very much like Hell. In fact, it looked more like... Earth. He checked his surroundings with his pesquisa. It seemed like there was no one in range, so he relaxed a little bit.

Then Kami appeared. He didn't recognize him at first, as he was thrown to the ground just by the sensation of pure power. as he slowly sat up, he looked toward the surge of cold power, and made out a figure.

The word left his lips as another old habit.

"Aizen-sama?"

* * *

><p>Kami was tired. He was tired of having to explain who he was and convince people of that over and over again. He could merely force the experience of all his years upon them, which would have the unfourtunate side effect of melting their brain.<p>

He had big plans for Ulquiorra, too big to waste time convincing him of his godliness or ressurecting him. An errant thought occured to him, a thought that he could have almost sworn was not his own.

He would impersonate Aizen. What better way to get Ulquiorra's loyalty than by impersonating his leader, the man who would be God? "_Yes,_" the voice of his thoughts whispered, "_That would be an excellent idea. A perfect plan to quiet the dissenting gods that plot against you. Show them how smart you are, to think of such a masterful plan._"

While Kami sees all, he cannot catch every last bit of the information from every part of the universe that swims by his eyes. With so much information flowing by, it is only natural that a little bit of information remains hidden, seen, but marked as unimportant, quietly slipping away.

Like porn. Kami has no gender, so porn is as uninteresting to him (truly, it) as it is to a rock. Therefore, porn also files under the unimportant category. Aizen, while he did not know for sure, made a somewhat educated guess as to this, and made a backup plan in case he fell, which he did.

If Kami had paid only a little more attention to the rather large orgy floating by his eyes, he would have noticed that the information was distorted. It seemed as if one of the participants in the video was not enjoying himself. This participant was currently getting anally penatrated by the men in the all gay orgy, who seemed to be in sexual bliss.

It seemed Aizen had miscalculated. Instead of being concealed by the porn tape, labeled Gay Jail 3, he found himself in it. When several prominently gay members of Soul Society saw this tape, they swore up and down that Aizen was gay. The tape was reviewed and put away as interesting but no longer relevant.

Several weeks later, the tape disappeared, around the same time that muffled noises could be heard from Lieutenant Hinamori's personal chambers.

Kami noted the disturbance, but also marked it down as unimportant, and put it down in the great archive of his mind. Unfourtunatly, while Aizen had paid dearly to get there, he was now inside Kami's mind. He spent weeks gathering power from the data that flowed through Kami's mind.

He gathered enough power that he managed to plant an idea inside Kami's head, the idea to impersonate him, in order to command his most loyal subordinate. Doing so took up all the power that Aizen had stored, and it would be several weeks before he could even make the attempt to contact Ulquiorra again.

* * *

><p>Kami disappeared. He was rather pleased with himself. He had impersonated Aizen, yet still pronounced himself as Kami. When Ulquiorra had asked him if "Aizen" had acheived his goal, he merely smiled. Since Kami could not lie, he had lessened the effectivness of his plan. Ulquiorra still didn't trust him fully. Since he appeared to be Aizen, Ulquiorra would go along with his plan's, for now. The offer at the end had been a definite temptation, persuading Ulquiorra to go along with it.<p>

Kami had also told Ulquiorra to see the headmaster after the feast. Kami would temporarily take over his body, and leave the headmaster with the impression of receiving a report after "Aizen" received his own. Kami could have done this all by himself, watching over the Potter boy and protecting him, but Kami had many important things to do. Therefore, he got Ulquiorra, an incredibly powerful individual, to watch over Harry for him.

Then, if the job was completed successfully (for Kami cannot see the future), he would have Ulquiorra nearby, and would be entitled to asking him for the odd job when his celestial duties required more attention. In fact, if Ulquiorra was successful, he might ask (command) him to do the same job next year.

He paused for a moment. Something didn't feel right. He searched the vast archive of his mind again, searching for the disturbance. Aizen again cloaked himself, correctly, this time, with porn. Kami's eyes swept over Aizen, and disappeared. Aizen was frustrated. He would now have to be more careful about amassing power, but Kami had begun to feel something different within Aizen's estimate, so it would work out.

He needed just a little more, and he would be able to lay down his backup plan. While his first plan was incredibly strong, his second plan was invincible. That was why it was a backup plan. He would sit upon Heaven's throne yet, thought the man who would be God.


End file.
